A Copious Amount of Hair Gel
by Padfoot Reincarnated
Summary: Draco is in the midst of a hair crisis, and Harry is completely in the dark as to what all that hair stuff is, anyway. That doesn't mean he's above manipulating it to get his own way... HD slash


**Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm not gonna try the witty disclaimer thing. Let it be known I do not own Harry Potter. Or Draco Malfoy. Which, for both of their sakes, is probably for the best.**

**Anyway. This has been sitting in my files for a _long_ time. I was a bit reluctant to put it up here, because it's very different from anything I've written before. But I feel like I need to write _some_ H/D, so I got this out and revamped it, and, well, here it is. This is possibly the first chapter in a multi-chaptered fic about things about Draco that scare Harry. Depends how this one goes over. I'm done babbling for now, so...enjoy!**

Draco hated shopping, as Harry discovered soon after they moved in together. He said there were too many things to tempt him. "Chocolate, bad movies, unrecognizable Potions ingredients, and expensive broomsticks," he explained. "Just to name a few. Also Quidditch magazines."

Harry punched his shoulder lightly. "You wanker," he said. "Fine, I'll go."

Draco smiled beatifically and collapsed onto the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. "Thank god for industrious little Gryffindors," he sighed, closing his eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to repress a smile. "I should be back within an hour," he said.

"Uh-huh."

"Is there anything you need?"

"Yeah—make sure to bring back some hair-gel."

XXXxxxXXX

Half an hour later, Harry was pushing a shopping cart down the aisle of the convenience store just a few blocks from the flat he shared with Draco. The cart was about half full—the kind of ice-cream he knew Draco liked, plus ingredients for dinner when Ron and Hermione came to visit. He was nearing the checkout when he remembered Draco's request for hair-gel.

He sighed heavily and wheeled his cart around, nearly swerving into a canned foods pyramid, and began rolling towards the hair-care aisle.

Once he got there, he was somewhat appalled at the amount of choices there were. He thought he might have heard of some of the brands before, but he had no idea what to pick. _Sweetly Sleek_ or _Playfully Perky_? _Ultra-Long-Lasting_ or _Super-Staying-Power_?

When in doubt, Harry always went by the prices. The cheapest selection this time was store brand, but they'd bought store-brand products before. He was sure Draco wouldn't mind.

XXXxxxXXX

The instant he walked in the door, laden down with multiple grocery bags, Draco pounced.

"Where's my hair-gel?" Draco bawled, tugging bags out of Harry's hands and beginning to dig through them with the air of a starving man digging for food.

Harry blinked in shock. "Let me get in," he said. "And then you can look. It's in one of these bags somewhere."

Draco stilled and fell back. "_One of these bags?"_ he repeated, horrified. "What do you _mean_? My hair care products usually require at _least _an entire bag to themselves."

Harry raised his eyebrows and unceremoniously dropped the entire collection of bags at their feet. "That's ridiculous," Harry commented lightly. "How much can you _fit_ in your hair? I bought you the store stuff; so unless you want to exchange it, it'll have to do."

Draco clutched his throat with one hand and touched his heart with the other. His eyes bulged.

Harry vaguely wondered if he'd killed him.

"Please tell me you're joking," Draco said hoarsely.

Harry frowned. "Erm, no."

Draco closed his eyes and shuddered. "Get the brooms, Harry," he ordered solemnly. "We have to go back to the store. Now."

"But—"

Draco cut him off. "Just go," he said painfully.

XXXxxxXXX

Five minutes later, Harry was once again trudging down the hair-care products aisle, this time with Draco in tow.

Or rather, Harry was trotting glumly after Draco while Draco plowed ahead, sending people with any sense ducking for cover. Harry saw a flash of blue fabric and a foot flying through the air, heard a scream, and was able to discern that Draco had sent a two-year-old girl flying through the air.

"Sorry!" he called back to her mother as he continued blazing his way towards the hair aisle. "It was an accident!"

Draco didn't seem to notice. The hair-gel was straight ahead, and Draco's eyes were fixed firmly on that one spot. He looked ready to murder anyone who stood in his way. Harry wouldn't put it past him, at this point.

"Ah," he sighed in relief as the duo reached the hair-care. "Here we are."

Harry rested his hands on his thighs, panting. "Yeah. Alright, get your stuff so we can get out of here. Ron and Hermione are coming for dinner tonight."

Normally, a statement such as this would have been enough to provoke hysterics from Draco, which was why Harry had put it off so long. Now, however, he snapped his head around just long enough to direct a venomous glare towards Harry before turning all of his attention back to the array of gels before him.

"Ooh, _Playfully Perky _is on sale!" he said delightedly. "Six galleons! What do you think, Harry?"

Harry stepped back a bit and raised his hands in self-defense. "I wouldn't know where to start," he said hoarsely. "Draco, why are you like this?"

Draco seemed to consider that a fair question. "My aristocratic upbringing," he said promptly. "Of course, it's _much_ easier to do one's hair if the house-elves help. But your friend Granger would probably send me to Azkaban."

As he said this, he continued browsing, throwing bottles into the cart seemingly at random. Red, blue, green—Harry couldn't see a difference between any of them.

Finally, when the cart was nearly full, Draco gave a satisfied sigh. "This," he said dramatically, sweeping his hand across the cart. "Is how shopping is _meant_ to be done."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll wait outside while you check out," he muttered.

XXXxxxXXX

When they got home, laden down with grocery bags (all filled with hair-products), the first thing Draco did was dart towards the bathroom, hairbrush and bottles in tow. Harry, curious, followed him.

When he cautiously opened the door a few minutes later, the room was cloudy with hair spray and steam. Draco was perched lightly on the counter, his hair and shoulders dripping with hot water. The sink was running, and Draco was carefully running his comb under the stream of water. Harry leaned against the doorframe and grinned. Draco hadn't even noticed him.

Draco squirted bottles of gel into his hand and into his hair and smeared it around. Harry didn't notice much of a difference. Draco was still just Draco.

Harry coughed lightly, and Draco spun around to face him, face bright red. "You aren't supposed to see this," he whined. "It'll ruin my image. You're supposed to think I just _come_ like this."

Harry chuckled lightly and jumped up on the counter to sit beside Draco. Curious, he poked a finger into Draco's mass of hair. Draco yelped.

"Don't! The gel isn't dry yet!"

Harry ignored him, instead massaging the back of Draco's scalp with his fingertips.

"Doesn't that feel nice?"

Draco glanced at him sideways. "Yes," he admitted cautiously. "But my hair!"

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned in to kiss Draco's lips. Draco's eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed himself against Harry—who laughed and pulled away.

"I think you should leave your hair natural tonight," Harry said firmly.

Draco blinked a few times. "Okay," he said breathlessly.

"Good," Harry affirmed, and, taking advantage of the already steamed up mirror, leaned in for another kiss.

Well. The hair-gel shopping spree wasn't _completely_ useless, at least.

**So? Should I continue, or is it not worth it? Was this fic your worst nightmare or worth reading? Either way, I'd love to hear your comments! And if you review, I'll use my Sooper Speshul CIA Skillz to change any copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows in the US to have Harry and Draco fall in love and have lots of tension fueled fun. Though if you live outside of the US, you're outta luck on this one...**


End file.
